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The men left one day to go running. Cabin fever, allegedly. Not the bodyguards, just Caelan and Eric. I wondered if there might be some ulterior motive, or perhaps they were trying to protect me by saying they were going running and then they’d end up doing something else, like tracking and killing someone. You know, as SAS men do.
However, Caelan arrived back at the villa covered in sweat. Shirtless. I was in the bedroom playing with Logan and a teddy bear, when he turned up in the doorway… like that.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Nothing at all,” he said, and proceeded to drench himself in nearly a full bottle of water, quite a lot of it splashing on the tiled flooring beneath his feet. Sure, it’d evaporate off, but this was caveman behaviour.
“Where’s Eric?”
“Och, he couldna keep up. Never could. Not built for it.”
It was obvious Caelan had intended to ditch Eric and get back here first, a display of dominance, arrogance and sheer alpha maleness. I took a deep breath when he stripped off his shorts and strode towards the bathroom entirely naked… with a semi-on.
Ripped as hell, sweaty, nearly hard, tanned from the sun, a sheen on his body from the exertion… not to mention how severely his calves bulged in the aftermath. I walked across the room, locked the bedroom door and put Logan in his crib with the teddy who he started talking to. Or squawking, rather.
I stroked Logan’s belly a few times and he snuggled into the teddy instead, his eyes starting to droop since it was after lunch, we’d done a bit of play and the belly stroking thing always worked—it worked on his dad, too.
I pushed my way into the bathroom and saw him beneath the cool spray of the shower, his cock a little softer but still hanging generously between his legs. Shedding my clothes, I got into the shower with him and slipped my arms around his waist, my nails digging in his butt.
Caelan tasted of salt and sweat as we kissed, his hands cupping my cheeks, an erection beginning to form between us.
“Are ye no still…?” He gestured down below.
“A bit. Does it matter?”
“Hell naw.”
He chucked me up in his arms, pushed me against the corner of the tiled open space where the shower ran, and slipped straight inside me.
“Caelan,” I gasped, grunting—my hands wrapping around his long, elegant throat.
“My one,” he moaned, then snapped his teeth around my nipple, his hands greedily clutching my rear.
When he began to swing me along his length, I tossed my head back, utterly weightless as this monster of a man took me, in the most intimate of ways. I’d never let him before. He kissed my skin, every bit he could, bit my shoulders and along my arms, sucked my throat and my nipples until I was nearly crying with pain.
I was so totally gone, shrieking and begging as he pumped through my tremors; one of those terrible, ferocious orgasms that came from spontaneous sex threatening to take me down. He held me still.
When I let go, it was like that ping-pong ball skittering endlessly, bouncing nonstop along an infinite corridor, its velocity undiminished even though it wasn’t downhill. Just no end to it, weightless, an invisible force pulsing through me, taking him with me.
Caelan huffed and puffed, his chest pushing hard against mine, his forehead resting on my shoulder as he tried to breathe. He didn’t pull out and when he’d caught his breath, he kissed me deliciously. I ran my fingers through his wet hair and licked inside his mouth, his answering smile making me smile.
He let me go and we stood facing one another, embraced tightly. “D’ye love me?”
“More than ever,” I said.
“I’m yours,” he said, “all yours.”
“I know.” I bussed my nose to his. “I know.”
Their run had had its desired effect. Caelan had outrun Eric by an hour. A fifteen-mile circuit that he’d completed in sweltering weather in less than two hours. That’s why Caelan was the overall beast. He was strong as well as fit; possessing the stamina of a horse plus the dominance of a lion.
When Eric got back and found us locked upstairs together, enjoying an afternoon siesta in bed alongside our babe, I heard him curse in the hallway. We both did. Caelan couldn’t hide the way his eyes narrowed and some base thing inside of him seemed to smile. I wasn’t going to apologise for having been turned on by my fit-as-fuck husband swinging his dick around—literally—then plunging into me like a wild man even as my period hadn’t quite finished. If anything, the bloom in my belly had been more intense, the way he’d been able to push inside too easy.
By evening, as we came down for dinner, Eric had worked himself up into a stewing mess, it was obvious. He didn’t say much and stared off into the distance for most of dinner, ignoring us as we got touchy feely and kissed unashamedly.
Yes, it’s quite a thing to see your macho as heck husband naked, covered in sweat, radiant and semi-hard.
I’d been reminded why, nearly two years ago, I’d been persuaded to leave single life behind and break all my own self-imposed rules. It was lust, pure lust. Caelan was my sexual fantasy, end of. He wasn’t easy to live with and he wasn’t always a sweetheart, but he was the man I’d married and chosen as my one. Caelan. Not Eric. Caelan.
